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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27966941">On The Road</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/cmk418/pseuds/cmk418'>cmk418</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Angel: the Series, Buffy the Vampire Slayer (TV)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>F/F</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2011-02-21</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2011-02-21</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-10 15:08:18</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,107</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27966941</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/cmk418/pseuds/cmk418</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Several years after the battle of Los Angeles, Cordelia is sent back by the Powers. Dawn finds her.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Cordelia Chase/Dawn Summers</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>On The Road</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>The lyric line is from "Lucky" by Bif Naked</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Cordelia Chase brushes the dirt off her jeans as she trudges down the shoulder of a two-lane highway.  The sun is out, sweat sticks to her skin, her hair feels disgusting, her feet are sore.</p><p>And she’s exhausted.</p><p>“Aw, come on,” she yells towards the sky.  She is tired of being the go-to girl for the Powers.  It’s as bad as acting – her life in stasis until someone, somewhere decides that they need her.  What she’s doing in the middle of god-knows-where is anyone’s guess.</p><p>She thinks of a line from a song that she heard in high school, back when she and Xander were regulars at the Bronze and it rings true now.</p><p>
  <i>…Never pay the Reaper with love only…</i>
</p><p>For a moment, it seems to get louder in her head.  It’s only when she looks up and sees the convertible which has stopped a few feet away, that she sees the actual source of the music.</p><p>There’s a girl in the car.  She looks friendly enough.  Young, at least on the surface.  She looks at Cordelia expectantly.</p><p>Despite the fact that she should know by now not to get into a car with a strange person, her feet are killing her and she hasn’t seen a car for the better part of…</p><p>Well, she probably could be more accurate with her estimation if she had a watch, but still, it’s been a while.</p><p>“Need a lift?”  The driver asks.</p><p>Cordelia fights back the sarcastic response that automatically threatens to erupt at such a ridiculous question.  It wouldn’t do to alienate one’s would-be-savior before she had taken the opportunity that was presented to her.  “Sure,” she replies, getting into the car.</p><p>“I’m Dawn,” says the driver, pulling the convertible off the shoulder of the highway.  “Where are you headed?”</p><p>“I don’t… I don’t know.  Just take me to the closest town I guess.  I’m sure I’ll find what I’m supposed to find there.”</p><p>“That’s Ames.  I can take you farther if you want.”</p><p>“No.  Ames is fine.”</p><p>“Actually, it’s not the safest place.”</p><p>“Compared to Los Angeles, I’m sure it’s fine.”</p><p>Dawn gives her an odd look.  “When did you get out?”</p><p>“Winter of 2004.  Officially.  Although in some ways I checked out before then.”</p><p>“Did you know a lot of people there?”</p><p>“A few.  I wasn’t from there though.  They say that no one is ever ‘from L.A.’ and it’s true.  Well, Gunn was.”  A flare of recognition at the name lights Dawn’s eyes as Cordelia continues on.  “My hometown made Los Angeles look like a picnic.  It’s now a giant hole in the ground.  Do you mind if I turn off the radio?  This music is starting to give me a headache.  A regular human one, thank the goddess.”</p><p>“I prefer not to,” Dawn says.</p><p>“Well, one way that I’ve learned to cope is by singing.”</p><p>Twenty seconds later, the music is shut off and Cordelia smiles triumphantly.</p><p>“What do you mean by regular human?”</p><p>“Oh, you know a little headache.  Not the nearly blinding, nauseating feel of a migraine.”</p><p>“Okay.”</p><p>“Because it’s not like I’m not a regular human.  I am.”</p><p>“So am I.”</p><p>“Good.”</p><p>“Good.”</p><p>“I mean there are parts of me that are demonic, but…”</p><p>“I’m not bringing you to any kind of revival to get yourself saved.  I’ve had a few issues with members of the clergy, so if that’s your aim…”</p><p>“No.  Demonic.  Truly.  Not evil.  Just a little bit different.”</p><p>“Oh.  All right.”</p><p>“All right?  You pick someone up off of the street and she tells you she’s a demon and you say all right?”</p><p>“Why not?”</p><p>“You’re a little deranged.”</p><p>“You remind me of someone.”</p><p>“Well, I used to act.  Maybe you saw me in something.”</p><p>“A picture.”</p><p>“Well, there was that straight-to-video picture that…”</p><p>“A picture-picture.  Photograph.  In her room.  On the mirror.”</p><p>“Who the hell are you?”</p><p>“Dawn.  Buffy’s sister.”</p><p>“Buffy doesn’t have a sister.”</p><p>“Well…” Dawn begins her tale about how she came to be.  Cordelia listens intently.</p><p>“Goddesses.  I swear.  Always trying to use someone to make the world their way.  At least, you didn’t have to give birth to yours.”</p><p>“No.  She was just trying to kill me.”</p><p>“Mine did.  I think.”</p><p>“So you’re a ghost.”</p><p>“No.  I’m just Cordelia, your run-of-the-mill part-demon, mostly-human woman thrown back into the chaos that I was trying to escape,” her voice escalates in volume at the last part.</p><p>“Bitter much?” Dawn deadpans and Cordelia laughs.</p><p>“What’s the point of it?  For better or worse, I’m back.”  She turns toward Dawn and gives her a once-over.  “Who knows?  This time it may be for better.”</p><p>“I think you’re what I was looking for.”</p><p>Cordelia laughs again.  “That’s the cheesiest line I’ve ever heard and I’ve heard some whoppers, believe me.”</p><p>“No, I mean, here.  Now.  I received a message from the Council that something we needed was arriving out here.  And since I’ve been to every post office and Western Union in a fifty mile radius, I’d say you’re it.”</p><p>“I think I preferred the awful pick-up line.”</p><p>“Well, you’re very pretty.  If it helps.”</p><p>“Was that so hard?”  She takes a deep breath before confessing.  “I knew I was sent here for something, I just didn’t know it was going to bring me full circle back to the gang from Sunnydale.”</p><p>“Not much of a gang.  Here at least.  Willow’s in South America, Xander’s in Africa, Buffy and Giles are in Europe, and Faith and I are here in the States.”</p><p>“She’s not with you, I hope.”</p><p>“Nah, she’s got her own circle of trainees out in Cleveland.”</p><p>“Did Buffy ever mention me?”</p><p>“Once or twice.  They had a little memorial service after you… well… you know.  Mostly, it was just a night of drinking and telling stories.  I was the designated driver.”</p><p>“Were they sad?”</p><p>“Of course,” Dawn says, sounding surprised.</p><p>“That’s nice.  Any regrets?”</p><p>“I didn’t listen that much.  I spent the evening flirting with the bartender.”</p><p>“Was he cute?”</p><p>“She was okay.”  Dawn shoots her a sideways glance as if to gauge Cordelia’s reaction.</p><p>“As pretty as me?”</p><p>“I’m starting to remember some of the things they said about you.”</p><p>“Oh.”</p><p>“I’m willing to draw my own conclusions though.”</p><p>“Good.”</p><p>“This may sound weird, but I’m glad I have no memory of you.”</p><p>Cordelia reclines the passenger seat and leans her head back against the headrest.  “Doesn’t sound weird at all,” she murmurs.  </p><p>The road seems to stretch out endlessly in front of them.  There’s time enough for conversation later.  For now, Cordelia closes her eyes and lets sleep overtake her.</p>
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